


"Aunt" Not "Mama"

by threepios



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Baby Luke, Owen is an ass, angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threepios/pseuds/threepios
Summary: Beru was always "mother" in Luke's mind but Owen would never allow him. The 3 times Owen corrected him and the 1 time he didn't.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Beru Whitesun
Comments: 20
Kudos: 21





	1. One: 1 years old

**Author's Note:**

  * For [returnofthejedis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnofthejedis/gifts).



> This is for Aly (@skywalkermyth on twitter) the ceo of baby Luke. Baby Luke supremacy!

The first time Luke was corrected he was a year old, he was holding onto Beru’s hands and trying to take his first steps. The sweet woman was in her nightie and it was rather late (usually these times would be reserved for Owen so they could talk) but lately, Luke had been staying up late and babbling til dawn. She’d take him out at a safe time and they’d watch the suns rise, his little hands reaching out towards them until he blinked slowly and fell asleep. The only difference tonight was that Owen was watching Luke with dull eyes and thin lips; he’d grumble so often as the baby boy in Beru’s arms giggled- babbling. It wasn’t as though Luke meant to annoy his uncle, hell Beru didn’t even know what got on Owen’s nerves so much; the baby could give a little noise and he’d be grunting on and on for hours. 

The moment that Luke had been placed in Beru’s arms she knew that she would give Luke Skywalker a good life. Her heart seemed to beat for Luke’s giggles and blonde curls tickling her cheek as he rested her head on his shoulder, falling into a sweet slumber. Beru would even pull out her old story books from when she was a child and read them to the boy.

Luke dragged his feet a bit but didn’t let it ruin his hyper mood, giggling as Beru cooed at him. He was so easy to please, he didn’t cry all too much and didn’t throw tantrums as often as other children. Her little boy was still a baby and the mother figure swore she’d stick with him through thick and thin...even if the same couldn’t be said about her rather strict husband. 

Owen was displeased with taking in his step-brother’s child, it took hours to convince him to take Luke in; he had yelled at her that a baby would take up their time and that if Anakin wanted a kid so bad that he should’ve stuck around to take care of _ it _ . Beru hadn’t been impressed by his words, telling him, “ _ Owen, don’t be so insensitive. Mr. Kenobi thought of us first to take care of the baby, we should be flattered. _ ” 

Owen scoffed, on the verge of being offended. “ _ Flattered that he’d dump a child with us? Do you realize how delusional you sound? _ ” 

“ _ He’s a  _ child!” Beru raised her voice, feeling quite frustrated with Owen’s disregard for the orphan. “ _ We’re going to give him a loving home, Owen, and that’s final! _ ”

Owen blinked at his wife. “ _ Of course. _ ” He muttered. 

A year later and he seemed more uninterested in Luke than ever. Beru knew that the boy would say his first words any day now but Owen was just waiting for his first steps, saying something about Luke helping around the farm more. The older man leaned his head back and yawned loudly, slumping in his father’s old and torn chair. Owen’s obvious play was to gain his wife’s attention and make her come to bed. He didn’t care if Luke stamped around in his crib, demanding for some type of attention while they just slept. It was a wonder that Beru never asked to have children of their own, she so desperately wanted to be a mother but Owen never expressed the want or desire to have a family of his own.

The man had a chance to be a better father than his own and he was throwing it away! Acting just like Cliegg did with him. 

Luke’s little legs gave out from beneath him and he gave a small little gasp, Beru picking him up and bringing him close to her chest. He let out a loud laugh, his baby blues squeezing close and his lips far apart to reveal two teeth; Beru let her own smile spread across her face in absolute awe of his pure light. Her little boy was just so happy and she couldn’t help but let out her own laugh of her own, the two just enjoying the small progress he was making. 

“When are you going to put him to bed, Beru?” Owen asked sharply, glaring at the boy who seemingly quieted upon his uncle’s words. 

Beru shot him a look. “He’s not sleepy, Owen. He likes to stay up late--”

“It doesn't matter what he  _ likes _ , we have to go to bed at some point.” Owen rubbed his eyes sleepily. “You’re too soft on him.”

Beru clenched her jaw. If Owen had been her father, her mother would’ve smacked him up beside the head. They’d argue and argue because the Whitesuns didn’t treat their kin or family this way, it was almost inhumane. Luke would receive love from Beru, double the love due to Owen’s reluctance to show any short of affection for the child. 

The woman wondered what caused her husband to be so hesitant to show compassion for the boy. He would glare and huff with little thought on how Luke would feel, even as a baby he must understand that his uncle wasn’t exactly being loving towards him. 

“Owen, you’re being--”

“ _ Mama _ !” 

Beru looked down at the boy in her arms and found him staring up at her with his sparkling blue eyes on her. She let out a soft gasp, eyes watering and a huge smile breaking on her face. Mama! Her! Beru Whitesuns, the mother of Luke Skywalker. Of course the woman couldn’t live up to  _ Padme Amidala _ but she could raise the boy as her own, teaching him everything she knows and playing little games. Oh, this is wonderful. 

“Mama?” Owen repeated in disgust, breaking through his wife’s thoughts. “She’s your aunt, boy.”

Luke frowned, pointing at Beru whose face had twisted into a frown. “Mama?”

Owen stood and glared at him. “ _ Aunt _ , Luke. She’s your aunt.”

“Owen, stop it!” Beru glared at him, feeling foolish for his anger that was so quick to flare up. Luke was just a bundle of joy , he didn’t need any type of negative words directed towards him. “I don’t mind--”

“He’s not our son.” Owen snapped. Beru blinked up at him, never having seen him so disturbed by words before. “Now put him to bed, he’ll be getting up and going to bed at normal times.”

She wanted to yell at him, to tell him he was being ridiculous. Yet she met his eyes and found nothing but anger simmering behind his innocent browns and Beru couldn’t help but deflate. She looked to Luke again and found him rubbing his nose on her shoulder, pulling away with a twisted face upon feeling the scratchy material of her shirt. Beru had seen other kids do this and she’d usually feel off put but she regarded him fondly. Luke gave a resounding sneeze that made Owen groan. 

“Can you clean him up and put him in his crib?” Owen waved a hand, turning and walking towards their bedroom. 

“Okay..” Beru held Luke tightly as he leaned forward in Owen’s direction with his arms held out, hands making a grabbing motion. She placed a kiss on his head, blonde locks soft as she pushed them away. “It’s okay, he’ll warm up to you.” 

Beru made her way to Luke’s room which was empty and stale. Upon entering the room, she didn't blame Luke when he let out a resounding cry, he struggled in her grip- kicking and flapping his hands around as the woman put him in the crib. She tried to turn away from him and head to bed because Owen would end up coming in here to make a big deal out of her staying with her. Yet it was the words that came out of the little boy’s mouth made her stop dead in her tracks:    


“Mama!” Luke’s lips wobbled and his eyes were glistening with tears, his chubby hand pushed back some of his hair from his forehead. He reached out toward her, seemingly heartbroken. “Mama?”

Beru smiled softly and kissed his cheek. “It’s okay, darling...I won’t leave you.” 

Luke blinked up at her, rubbing his eyes and babbling at her again. He fell back on his bottom and sniffled, looking down at the faded material of his baby mattress. His eyes grew big when Beru reached forward and wrapped a soft pink blanket around his shoulders. Beru rested her chin on the bar and watched him snuggle into the fabric, smiling as she tiredly blinked 

Her hand reached down to allow Luke to take her finger in his hand. She wiggled her finger and he giggled. Luke yawned and said softly: “Nigh, nigh, mama.”

“Night, night, Lukey.” Beru whispered. 

She waited longer for him to give that soft breath and stood, leaning over to press a kiss against his forehead. Luke smacked his lips softly and turned his head, peacefully resting for the night. Beru stared down at him with thinned lips before deciding to return to her own bed before Owen decided to make a big show out of her hesitancy. Her mind had been on one thing only, the fact that she had been called mama and she couldn't bask in it, couldn't accept it with open arms because Owen disliked it. If Beru was Luke's supposed mother then, by default, that would make Luke his son-- something he had denied from the moment Beru had first brought the boy into her arms. 

While Beru knew the moment she took Luke in and had looked Obi-Wan in the eyes, promising that she would give him a life that was memorable; Owen had bitterly promised himself he would never see Luke as anything more than her step-brother's son. 

Her heart clenched as she pushed open the door to their bedroom, finding it cold and dark, seeing Owen already sound asleep. Beru wondered how long it would take for him to warm up to the boy-- if he'd ever warm up to him. 

All she could do now was lie back and dream of something better. 


	2. Two: Four Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke gets new clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, I hope you enjoy! :)

A little 4-year-old Luke stumbled from his room with his tunic half pulled over his head, grunting and whining as he entered the dining room. The past three years had almost been a constant repeat of the year before, even his uncle was a constant repeat of yelling at him for small things. He would move a chair over to create a top secret fort and Owen would stomp around saying he was creating a mess, he’d color on pages Beru gave him and he was told that he was wasting resources. Luke couldn’t even breathe without his uncle barking at him for something he had done, albeit something little. 

Owen stopped mid-bite as he spotted his nephew stumbled into the room, bumping into his chair with a cry. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, this boy was going to be his demise with all the stupid antics he took part in. 

“Pull your shirt over your head!” Owen ordered, making Luke jump and freeze. 

“I-I can’t get it over my head, sir..” Luke’s voice was sheepish and hesitant, obviously not wanting to upset his uncle. 

“Oh for--” Owen pushed his chair back with so much force it fell to the ground. He stopped before Luke and tried to pull down the two sizes too small blue sweater over his head, the boy let out a painful cry while the man just grunt. Finally deciding it was no use, Owen pulled the sweater off of him and grabbed his arm. “Your aunt has altered this too many times, it’s time you dressed like a boy.” 

“Uncle Owen, you’re hurting me!” Luke scrunched his nose and tried to retch from Owen’s grip but it only tightened as they entered his aunt and uncle’s shared room. He was pushed towards the bed, his small hands wrapped around the blankets to keep himself steady and reached over to rub his reddening arm. 

His uncle didn’t mind hurting Luke, he never apologized even when Beru voiced her concern. It caused Luke’s stomach to churn at the thought of his uncle punishing him because Owen had no heart to feel guilty for making Luke cry or whine. The boy watched his uncle dig around his closet and throw various clothes onto the bed beside him, he pulled away and looked to his nephew. 

“Well, get ready, we don’t have all day!” Owen snapped, stomping out of the room. 

Luke muttered under his breath and crawled onto the bed with some struggle and sat cross legged on the bed, shuffling through the clothes. He let out a giggle as he pulled on the yellow white tunic over his shoulders, the sleeves going way past his hands. He felt like a big boy now, he had his own tunic and pants that were a little too big. He still pulled them all on and then stumbled back to the dining room where Owen returned to his seat and Beru had taken her own; he met Beru’s eyes and gave a great big grin. 

He took a seat at the table and looked at Owen with hopeful eyes but the man just continued to eat, making the boy eat soberly. Luke’s mind trailed off to the dream he had last night, his mother and father talking with him animatedly, his father picking him up and placed the boy on his shoulders. Luke remembered vividly his father’s features as he described what some of the clouds looked like, his mother tickled his side. Nothing was more disappointing than waking up in his usual little bed with the same scratchy blankets and the same emptiness that he had felt his whole life. 

An orphan, the same thing that he had been his whole life. He had cried into his blankets until he heard Beru’s soft knock on the door, asking if he had gotten up yet. He’d respond quickly and almost quietly, jumping out of his bed and getting dressed. That was until he got his shirt stuck over his head. 

Now, he sat at the table, picking at his food with a somber expression. Luke wondered what it would be like to have dinner with his mother and father, if they would have little conversations and if they would try to teach him how to read and write like Beru was! His mind was working fast and he couldn’t help but turn his attention up. 

“Will my mommy and daddy ever come back for me?” 

Beru choked on her milk a little, placing her hand on her chest and coughing softly. Her eyes finding her nephews almost immediately, seeing his innocent blue eyes staring back at her begging to answer his questions. She knew he would want to know more about his parents one day and she didn’t really blame him for asking. Beru knew little about Anakin but Padme was easier to research and she was someone Beru was interested in due to her work for the people and not just herself. Her lightheartedness was something that Luke shared with her. 

Although Anakin…

“You’re being ridiculous, boy.” Owen said. 

“Owen, he just asked a question.” Beru’s voice was soft and she made sure to send him a look as she answered. “They’re not coming back, sweetheart. Your father passed away before you were born and your mother shortly after. I’m sorry, Luke.”

His head tilted, not fully understanding the concept of death. “What happened to them?”

“You happened.” Owen muttered into his cup.

“Owen!” Beru snapped, glaring holes into the man. How could he be so insensitive by telling a four-year-old that he was the reason that his mother and father were no longer alive. Owen had never been this bitter before they had Luke yet it seemed like it was all the older man was just unhappy with everything, no matter what it was he just huffed and grumbled to himself. She felt as though she had nothing to offer to her husband anymore, that he was just permanently unhappy with her and the little boy that they had taken in. 

Luke’s eyes widened considerably, mouth wide open. “I-I killed them?” His lips wobbled and he looked between his aunt and uncle. “Did I hurt my mommy and daddy?”

“No, Luke, you could never.” Beru reached over and wiped his tears from his baby cheeks, smiling at him softly. 

Luke nodded, looking down at his place and deciding he wasn’t all too hungry now. He pushed his plate away and hopped out of his chair, shuffling forward. He had hurt his mommy and daddy and now they’d never come back to get him, he imagined them looming over him with anger in their expressions-- hate in their eyes as they screeched: “ _ YOU. YOU KILLED US, LUKE. _ ” Luke sniffled, using the oversized sleeve to wipe the snot from under his nose. 

Because little Luke was so focused on upsetting his parents, he didn’t see his pant leg get caught under his foot and was sent tumbling making Beru gasp. 

Luke’s eyes watered and lips wobbled at the burning sensation in his knee. He was pulled into Beru’s arms as he let out a loud cry, eyes crunching close. Beru cooed at him, rubbing his back while Owen just continued eating, almost as if he was unaware of the cries and pain from his nephew. The little boy couldn’t help stuff his head into her chest and cry harder, the burning hurting more and more. 

Owen sighed, “Have him cleaned up soon. I need to teach him how to dismantle a vaporator.” He was up and out of the dining room before Beru could possibly try to chide him for his disregard of Luke’s well-being. 

Although his knee would heal, he needed some type of comfort. 

Anger swelled up in Beru as she stood up, fussing over him as she walked to her bedroom and placed the young boy on the bed. He sniffled as she took his tunic off and laid it out in front of her and searched her drawers for her kit, her mind already forming a plan on what she was going to do. Luke wiped under his eyes and nose, watching his aunt move almost subconsciously. 

“Let's get a bandage on that booboo, hm?” Beru raised a brow, looking at his red knee with a worried scrunch of her brow. 

Luke sniffled, shaking his head. “It’s going to hurt.” He cowered away from her with a tremble in her voice. 

“No, no, I won’t hurt you.” Beru rubbed some cream on his knee, gently and slowly to ensure that she didn’t hurt him anymore than he was already. Taking some bandage and wrapping it around his knee, she looked up to him with a big grin. “See? All better.” 

Luke gasped, eyes wide with awe as he poke his knee letting out a hiss. “It still hurts!” He almost accused her. Beru laughed softly and explained to him that owies didn’t just heal immediately, which made him pout as she took the tunic in her hands and started to alter it. Luke muttered under his breath how he’d been lied to while he laid on his tummy and watched Beru skillfully weave her needle and thread through the soft fabric of the old tunic. He gasped when her finger was pricked by the needle, he grabbed her hand and stared at her almost unaffected finger. 

“How do you not have an owie!?” Luke demanded, he poked the little red area. “You didn’t kiss it so how does it heal?” 

Beru laughed softly, nudging his cheek. “Because I’ve been doing this since I was a young girl, you get calluses you see? Those make your fingers stronger.” He blinked at her, obviously not understanding whatever a callus was and she leaned her head against the bed. “Give it a kiss to make it all better.” 

Luke grinned and placed a big kiss on her finger, poking it again. “It’s so rough. Can I get a callieuse, aunty?” 

“A callus?” Beru giggled, nodding. “Yes, come here, I’ll teach you.” 

Luke’s whole body shook as he gave an excited squeal, scrambling off the bed and plopped down on her lap. They sat there for a few hours, Luke just watching her for a long time as she explained in detail how her and her mother would help alter clothes for slaves. He didn’t pay attention, more interested in how the needle seemed to just change his clothes altogether. What was once Owen’s was now Luke’s. 

“Now, here.” She placed the needle in his small fist, being sure to hold it so he didn’t prick himself. Beru was ecstatic at the bright look in his eyes as he worked. The last stitch went through and she lent forward, cutting the thread with her teeth and held the tunic up for both of them to see. “Look at that! You’re a natural, let's get this on.”

Luke jumped up and down as he stood up, letting Beru put the tunic on him. He danced around all silly as Beru took the pants and started to alter those too, he started to run around the room and acted like he was some big hero. She hummed softly, nodding along as he groaned and fell against her back, his arms around her shoulders and staring down at his pants. He blinked tiredly, smacking his lips softly. 

“Whenever I imagine a mommy, I think of you. Because you’re the best mommy, Aunty.” Beru froze up and tears took her eyes as she placed the pants and needle in her lap as Luke continued, voice soft. “My mommy probably wished she would be as cool of a mommy as you!” 

Beru placed her hand on Luke’s own tiny one, rubbing gently. “Never change, Lukey.”

“Okay, mama.” Luke smiled, watching as she continued her work. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Luke stumbled into the garage with his new clothes making him feel like a little prince, he smiled big at Owen as he hopped up to him. His uncle sparing him an irritated glance, he clenched his jaw. “Where have you been, boy, I’ve been waiting three hours!” 

Luke thought over the past three hours, how they had been spent with his aunt. He smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Me and mama--”

“Mama?” Owen cut him off, his anger clear as day now making Luke cower back. “What have I told you, Luke. She’s your aunt.”

“But she loves me like a mama! She cares!” Luke yelled at him, stomping his foot. He regretted it immediately when he saw Owen’s face redden and his eyebrows narrow with his eyes. He’d seen him like this before and it usually ended up with him crying and avoiding sitting down for days, Beru usually would comfort him afterwards. Luke placed his hand on his mouth as Owen reached out and grabbed him up by the collar. “I’m sorry, so sorry!”

“I will not be treated like this in my own home!” 

Luke stared up at him with bulging blue eyes, his mouth hanging open but no words dared to come out. The boy wondered as his uncle screamed in his face why Beru was so gentle with him even when he made a mistake while his uncle screamed and shouted, spanked and threw things. Beru’s soft smile as she explained things would be okay while Owen would just spit in his face about how disrespectful he was. 

“ _ Owen loves you, this is how he protects you. _ ” Beru would often say softly. So Luke begged the sky in question, is this how love was expressed? Why didn’t his aunt scream at him if she loved him so much? If Owen loved him then love was simply yelling and teaching right from wrong in the harshest way possible? Why did the other parents in Anchorhead treat their children like Beru treated Luke, was it because they didn’t love their kids after all? 

After minutes of yelling, Owen finally sent Luke to his room for the day. No supper and no talking. Like any child, Luke kicked his stuff around and fell back on his tiny bed with a sniffle, shaking from the shock of his uncle’s loud voice. He decided that no one would check on him until tomorrow so he decided to dress up in his pajamas and lie down, taking his stuffed teddy into his arms. He petted the top of Sunny’s head with tearful eyes. 

“It’s okay, Sunny, I won’t hurt you.” He murmured, his eyes blinking closed. 

Soon as his eyes closed, he seemed to fall into a deep slumber. His world turned into beautiful meadows again, he sat cross-legged and picked at the grass piece by piece. Luke glanced over when a little girl took his side, looking a little somber as she fell back with a huff. He thought her pretty, but not in the way Owen looked at Beru but the way Luke thought Beru was pretty.

“Hi,” Luke waved to her innocently. 

“Hello.” The little girl said lamely, staring up at the sky with watery eyes. 

Luke tilted his head and fiddled with his hands. “Did your uncle yell at you too?” 

The girl scoffed, sitting up and glaring at Luke. “My uncle? I have no uncles! It was that skeleton, bird brain Tarkin messing with my papa.” She snapped to no one in particular, crossing her arms. “So I threw down water balloons over his head!”

Luke blinked at her in shock, gasping softly. “You wasted water?” He had done so before at the expense of water for two days, dumping it over his pet rock Rocky to keep him hydrated. Which then leads to Rocky being thrown into Beggar’s Canyon by Owen, calling Luke a ‘little bastard’ for even daring to  _ think  _ about wasting some of their water. 

The little girl stared at him in confusion. “Yeah?” 

“How could you! Your family could die from dryness.” Little Luke crossed his own arms and turned around, not wanting to look at the girl. He could remember Owen doing this to Luke many days before. 

“Dryness? You mean  _ dehydrated _ .” The little girl said hotly. She glared holes into his back and stood to poke him in the back. “You’re a turd!”

Luke gasped, turning around with hurt painted on his face. “ _ I’m _ a turd?  _ You’re _ a turd.” He clenched his hand, shaking a fist at the girl who whirled around with an indignant huff. “You’re a meany head!”

“Hmpfh. You’re just another little boy that’s intolerable.” She started to stomp off in one direction, leaving Luke alone and in the middle of a darkening meadow. 

He reached out. “Wait, no...you’re my only friend.” He called softly, falling back on his rear with a sniffle and a cry. Luke knew that he wasn’t great to be around and got in trouble more in one day than he could count on one hand, his heart heavy as he slumped. He lacked friends and lacked qualities that made him loveable to other people, he just wanted someone he could depend on-- to play his toys with someone who understood his imagination.

“I’m sorry.” He said to the long girl that was now long gone. 

It wasn’t the fact that a large gust of wind pelted his body that made him look up, it wasn’t the terrible howl squeaking in his ears. It was the horrifying mechanical breath from in front of him, he looked up from through his fingers at the towering black figure that seemed to breathe louder than Uncle Owen after a day's work. He could only freeze up and let his mind race with thoughts: are they going to hurt me? Are they going to take me like the Tuskens took some of the kids in Anchorhead? 

Yet the figure seemed to look out in the distance, hands clenched by their sides. Luke could just tell by their body language that they were unhappy with whatever they saw-- or maybe what they didn’t see. He took a shuddering breath when the person revealed a glowing red stick in their hand, the wind blew harshly almost sending Luke backwards. Yet the person didn’t move. Their cape twirled in the wind, Luke’s eyes widened slightly and he stumbled forward to hide under it-- to have some type of comfort. He cowered under the cape and wrapped himself up in it, sniffling and shaking due to the sound of the wind which had disappeared. 

He frowned and peaked from the cape, under the person’s arm and found himself in some offly cold room with a rather pale man sitting high above him. Luke let out a whimper and stuffed his face into the side of the person’s leg, he clutched the cape around him. 

“He seems to be weak, my apprentice.” Said the man at the throne. 

“He will learn, my master.” The person said, voice deep and mechanical. It made Luke shake to his core. The person knelt in front of him and the boy stared into his black depths with horror on his face, eyes tearing and mouth gaping like a fish. “You will listen to me and listen well.”

Luke shook under the man’s hand and shook his head. “Please, I-I don’t--"

“You don’t what?” Their voice didn’t waver nor raise in tone 

“I-I’m sorry.” Luke whispered, lips thinned. He didn’t want to be here any more and didn’t want to hear any of these scary voices any more. He took a step away and fiddled with his hands, this person was even more frightening than Owen when he had upset him. “I’m sorry it won’t happen again.”

“Foolish boy,” hissed that man on the throne. He came down the steps and grabbed Luke by his arm, pulling him close to spit in his face. “You will learn the way of the darkness, boy and you will take my place.” 

“No! No!” Luke started to struggle against him. “Let me go! Let me go!”

“Luke,” the boy looked over to the so called apprentice and saw that he was reaching out to him. “Luke, wake up.”

“Beru?” Luke frowned. 

  
  
  
  


Luke sat up in his bed and let out a little cry when he felt arms wrap around them, the cooing made him stop dead. He let out a shaky breath and leaned back in the arms of Beru Whitesun, the woman racking her fingers through his hair. He stuffed his face into her chest and cried softly, no longer caring who heard. 

“Oh, dear.” She whispered, heart heavy with grief over his fear. She reached over and brought his teddy Sunny close, which he clutched close almost immediately. “Sunny loves to comfort his best friend, hm?"

“Mhm.” Luke caressed Sunny’s head in almost a similar way that Beru was doing to him. He sniffled and sputtered, shaking his head almost frantically. 

“It’s okay to be scared sometimes.” Beru comforted, she rested her chin on the top of his head. “What’s bothering you, love? You can tell me anything.”

Luke hated his nightmares but the affection that Beru showed him made him want to tell her everything. But he felt like a baby for crying like this, but he was Beru’s baby. He puffed his chest and let out a little breath. “I love you, mama.”

Beru settled for that, smiling sadly. “I love you too, Luke.” She whispered but it was lost like the wind in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and reviews very much appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was good, I'm sorry it was so short. Come yell at me on twitter: @threepios
> 
> Kudos and Reviews are very much appreciated!


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